


An assortment of SidAndy

by FuryFiction



Category: Toy Story (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-04 22:32:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 10,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5350841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryFiction/pseuds/FuryFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty short stories, ranging from the fluffiest fluff to the smuttiest smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Baking

‘When you said we were going to do some “bonding as a couple,” this  _wasn’t_ what I had in mind.’

Andy looked up from fiddling about in the tupperware drawer; and it would be dishonest for him to say that he didn’t snigger when he saw Sid armed and prepared for their baking session. He had claimed ownership of Andy’s mom’s best cooking apron, as well as her spatula – though Andy would have to remind him later that the more common instrument used for baking was a wooden spoon. The marigold gloves didn’t bode well for his noble masculinity either.

‘Come _on_ , it’ll be fun!’ Andy chimed, milking it a little just to see his boyfriend squirm in irritation, ‘Mom and I always used to bake before she went back to working full time and it really helped with--’ his voice cut off a moment and he rubbed his lips as if trying to get the words back in, ‘...my parent’s divorce. It helped a lot.’

He could tell that Sid was wavering and seconds later those ridiculous marigold gloves were wrapped around his waist, pulling him close, ‘alright, alright, we’ll bake. Fuck Andy, you always have to go all sentimental on me.’

‘Not my fault you’re such an asshole,’ the shorter man mumbled into the front of his shirt, though he made no effort to move away, ‘now we can either make chocolate cake or coffee cake. Which one would you prefer?’

‘Can’t we have both?’

'Oh _Sid_.'


	2. Punishment

'Your behaviour is becoming somewhat recurrent,' Andy comments, fingers playing with the material of Sid's thick, black jeans that expose the trim outline of his rear end perfectly, 'in fact, I sometimes think you deliberately get up to these shenanigans just so you can find yourself in this position.'

Sid shifts across his lap, trying to fend off that overwhelming sense of warmth that swells into his cock as Andy's fingertips trace the space between his thigh and buttocks, just wanting him to get started already, 'you gonna keep procrastinating or are you gonna whip my ass?'

'Hmm...' Andy toys with the idea of not even spanking him at all; tempted to just trail his fingers around that sensitive area until his boyfriend is a whining, quivering mess. But that wouldn't be fair; he's promised Sid this for a long while and a good round of their domestic discipline is much overdue.

'So, you've been lazing around all day on the couch,' he rests one hand between Sid's naked shoulder blades and the other firmly on both those finely curved cheeks, 'leaving me to clean the house all by myself. What do you have to say to that?'

Sid shrugs, 'Breaking Bad was on.'

'Wrong answer,' his lover replies, promptly raising his hand and bringing it down to collide with Sid's jean-covered rump, smirking as his usually ascendant boyfriend shudders in response, 'looks like I'm gonna have to turn your butt into a crater before you learn to start pulling your weight around.'

He brings his hand down again, smiling at the noise of his palm smacking against the jean fabric while Sid wriggles in an attempt to wade off that arousal that's burning in his gut, sending blood rushing to his already swelling dick. Another smack and he jerks again, emitting a soft hum of contentment as he feels a small burn form in the space between his butt and thigh.

'Naughty, naughty,' Andy chimes, landing two more smacks that make the older male squirm, 'and you know what lazy, naughty boys get don't you?'

Sid's lack of response earns another slap and he grunts. 'What do naughty boys get, Sid?' Andy repeats the question, hands grasping the waistband of the jeans: they're a lot harder to tug down than the sweats Sid always wears after his gym sessions.

'Spanked,' Sid replies in a whisper, desiring to cross his legs but being unable to do so in such a position.

Andy is loving this. His hand comes down in six more solid swats to each cheek until it begins to ache, 'say it louder Sid. What do naughty boys get?'

'They get spanked!' cries Sid, trying to keep still as Andy's hand collides with his ass again, making his cock throb. Andy could end it here and drag on the punishment by keeping Sid on the verge of an orgasm all night. But that would be cruel.

'I'm not entirely convinced that you've learned your lesson, young man,' he drags down the black jeans until they rest neatly at those finely toned hamstrings and Sid's underwear follows shortly after, as Andy rests his hand against that already dusty pink backside, 'your bottom is going to be _very_  red by the time I'm finished with you.'

Sid  _moans_. 


	3. Grocery Shopping

‘I said  _no_ , Sid.’

‘Oh fuck you, Andy; you know how much I love these,’ he waved the packet of fruit roll ups in his boyfriend’s face, ‘how come all of a sudden you’re going all Gordon Ramsay on me?’

‘Gordon Ramsay is a chef, not a nutritionist,’ Andy grumbled in reply, tossing a cabbage into the cart, ‘you heard what the doctor said; you need to lay off the sugar. Your blood pressure-’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Sid set the candy back down with a grunt, ‘I wish you would lighten up; you only live once.’ 

‘And you won’t be living very long if you keep eating junk.’

The taller man leered at him slightly with his dark eyes but in the end he shrugged his shoulders in defeat, annoyed and slightly embarrassed at being scolded like an inept child. Andy noticed. 

‘I’m sorry. I worry about you, that’s all. You've been drinking a lot lately and--’

'You’re four years younger than me. I’m the one who’s supposed to worry about  _you_ ,' replied Sid, sounding more annoyed than he intended but he leaned against the shopping cart and dropped his head onto his boyfriend's shoulder, 'shit...'

'Would some fruit roll ups make you feel better?'

'No, you're right. I should give the sweets a break. I'm sorry.'

'Forget it; you can make it up to me when we get home,' Andy gave his rear an affectionate swat, 'see? You're smiling! Now come on, Mom’s going to the trouble of making us dinner tonight and she asked me to pick up cauliflower.' 

'What the heck is a cauliflower?’


	4. Homeless and Hopeless

Trust Molly to run out of tootsie rolls the night before her big recital. She needed that goddamn candy; she point blank refused to go onstage without sucking on one for comfort first. Since his mom was worn out from a day at work, Andy had volunteered to go out and buy some more before his little sister went completely nuts.

He bought a few cartons of milk while he was at it, as well as some crossword puzzles for his mother. As he stepped out into the dark street, he fished through his wallet to count his change when he suddenly collided with something in the darkness. He heard the low, hollow growl of a dog and swallowed audibly. 

‘Oh, sorry!’ he half cried when he realised he had unintentionally kicked a fellow human being, 'are you okay, I didn’t mean to-’

Said person calmly lifted their head to stare at him blankly and he found he recognised those dark eyes that were so soulless and full of resentment, ‘…Sid?’

The figure huffed as he tugged on the chain to calm the bull terrier that was growling protectively, ‘the one and only…’

'What happened to you?’

'What’s it look like?’ Sid growled in return, 'my damn bastard of a father kicked me out, didn’t he?’

'Shit...Sid, I'm--’

'Yeah, well, looks like you were right, weren’t you?’ Sid took up the half empty beer can next to him and took a sip, 'I never listen to you though, do I?’

'That’s true,’ Andy sighed; he and Sid had dated a little during high school but due to Sid’s reluctance and frankly denial about his abusive father, they had decided it would be best to part ways. Andy had cried for months over the break up. Sid had been devastated as well but he would never say so.

'How long have you been here?’ Andy asked, opening the packet of tootsie rolls and offering one to the man below him.

'About a week.’

'When was the last time you ate?’

'Can’t remember. Two days ago maybe?’

‘ _Two days_?’ Andy was aghast, ‘Jesus Christ, Sid, you can’t stay here!’ he glanced at Scud who looked equally malnourished, ‘you’re both skin and bones!’

Sid grunted and began to suck on the candy, ‘I’ve always been skin and bones.’

'Come on,’ Andy reached down and tugged at his hand, 'you’re coming with me.’

'Planning on throwing me in a hostel are you?’

'No. I’m taking you home so you can have a proper meal with us and then give you a decent bed to sleep in. We have dog food for Buster so Scud can eat as well - as long as he keeps his teeth to himself.’

Sid stared at him as if he was joking but Andy had never been more serious in his life. Their eyes burrowed into each other, blue meeting brown and Sid suddenly craved the ferocity that lurked in their depths.

'I was mad to let you go, wasn’t I?' 

For the first time, Andy felt a smile on his lips as a hand reached up and gently cupped the side of his face, ‘perhaps…I guess I was kinda mad to let you go as well…’

They stayed like that for a moment, before Andy leaned down to pet between Scud’s ears, ‘c’mon, let’s get you two home. You must be starving.’


	5. Nightmare

When Andy had trouble sleeping, it was usually his own fault. The old teenage habit of staying up half the night playing video games still hadn’t worn off and often he awoke the next morning feeling like a reanimated zombie. But tonight he had gone to bed early, finally taking his mother’s advice for the good of his health.

He may very well have dropped off easily -- if only Sid hadn’t been tossing and turning for the past couple of hours, occasionally mumbling inaudible trash.

Andy was guilty of teasing Sid about talking in his sleep – after all, it was a very humorous conversation to bring up at breakfast. But tonight was different. Sid seemed highly disturbed in his near catatonic state, occasionally pounding his pillow with one fist as if fighting off an intruder.

‘Fuck…’ he kept slurring under his breath, making Andy cringe as he raised his fist to pound at his own skull, ‘get the fuck off… _fuck_ …’

Andy knew who he was talking to. Each and every word he gasped out were the same words he said to his dad whenever...whenever _that_ happened. The courts had forced Sid to recount it, as if the first time wasn’t bad enough.

Andy wasn’t really supposed to wake him up but he was scared of Sid injuring himself at the rate he was pummeling at his head, ‘Sid? Hey Sid, it’s me.’

‘Shit…’ Sid’s voice croaked, his hands reaching up to rub his eyes, ‘what happened?’

‘Nothing; you’re at home, Sid,’ Andy replied, knotting his fingers into that overgrown hair, ‘bad dream, that’s all.’

‘Oh…’ the larger man grunted tiredly, dropping his head onto his boyfriend’s shoulder, ‘was I talking again? What did I say?’

It didn’t seem appropriate to spend the rest of the night reliving the old life that Sid had finally escaped from. He was here now, safe from everything that used to hurt him.

‘Nothing important,’ Andy leaned over and kissed Sid’s forehead, ‘go back to sleep, baby.’


	6. Age Play

'Fucking _hell_ , Andy!'

'Now, now; little boys aren't supposed to curse.'

'But it _hurts_ ,' Sid growled as the thermometer was probed further inside him, until it felt like he was swallowing it whole, 'I already told you I'm not sick. I only said that so I could--'

'Skip school?' Andy shook his head with a brief _tsk_ , 'playing hooky is very naughty, Sid. And would you look at that; your temperature is absolutely fine.'

'As if you didn't know,' Sid pressed his face further into one of his pillows as Andy got out a fresh diaper and slid it up to his waist, 'alright, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I lied!'

Andy smirked, 'too little, too late. It's an early night for you, Mister.'

'But Andy--'

'No buts. You can watch one episode of Breaking Bad and then it's into your jammies for you.'

Sid's dark eyes narrowed slightly but he couldn't help purring as Andy weaved his fingers into his hair, 'okay...'

'Excuse me?'

'I mean, okay _Daddy_.'


	7. Losing Woody

This couldn’t be happening. Not today of all days. He just _had_ to lose Woody the day that everything was falling apart. He was more than just a toy; he was his comfort, his solace for whenever things were going wrong. And now he was lost; perhaps discarded into the garbage again and gone for good. The very thought nearly made him gag.

He fumbled around in his pocket for his cellphone, cursing his mother for being out late and Molly for being at a slumber party. There was only Sid. This wasn’t going to be easy.

He held the phone to his ear with shaking hands and once he heard Sid’s husk voice at the other end of the line, he rambled out, ‘uhm...hey. I, uh...I know it's really late but...any chance you could come over? I...I need a little help with something.’

‘Come over? Now? Jesus Andy, it’s almost one in the morning.’

Well, at least Sid had been asleep, if his gruff and scratchy voice was anything to go by -- Andy had been nagging him about staying up too late on a work night for months now -- but he was far too distressed to be sympathetic. He needed someone. He needed Sid. 

'Please Sid, this is important. I…I’ve lost Woody.’

'Woody? You mean that creepy cowboy doll? Oh thank God, at last!’

'Sid!’ Andy’s face crumpled and suddenly he was bawling like an infant, his shoulders heaving as he tried in vain to control the anxiety that overtook his body. Why didn’t Sid understand how important Woody was to him; that he had been with him through everything and that he was one of the only things that could calm him down when Sid wasn’t there?

'Andy?’ Sid was more awake now and he sounded anxious; because he couldn't stand hearing Andy cry and knowing he had caused it, 'babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I just…look, I’m coming over to help you look, okay? Just take some deep breaths and wait for me. I love you, you know that right?’

Andy gave a loud, wet sniff, ‘I love you too. Thanks Sid, I-I’ll see you later.’

* * *

'Are you sure you didn’t take him out and leave him somewhere?’ Sid asked as he looted about the toy box for the third time, making sure to keep his gaze off the others toys that were piled in there. Their very presence made his stomach churn violently. 

'I’m sure,’ his boyfriend replied, 'I lost him so many times when I took him out as a kid I never do it anymore.’

Sid gave up on the toy box and began moving the bed to look beneath it, silently prayed that the cowboy was gone for good. Every time his eyes darted about the room he would flinch if he saw something remotely similar to Woody, heart jolting whenever his fingers traced something soft and then relaxing when it turned out to be a discarded pair of jeans. 

'I don’t think he’s in here, why don’t we check-?’ Sid began, only to push aside the dresser and feel the blood drain out of his face as he locked eyes with that all too familiar doll that gazed up at him almost triumphantly.

'What did you say, babe?’ Andy asked over his shoulder, still checking his drawers, 'Sid?’

The older boy felt his forehead begin to bead with sweat. His breath came out in short, unsophisticated breaths. He reached towards the toy but he just couldn’t bring himself to touch it. All those memories of the talking, _moving_ toys made his thoughts spiral into a tizzy.

'Sid, are you okay?’

Sid's whole body went tense - and suddenly the cowboy blinked, it fucking _blinked_ at him. And Sid waited for the annihilation to begin. He had seen the horror movies. These things could tear a grown man apart. He felt fat tears form in his eyes and suddenly they were streaming down both cheeks but Woody made no attempt to attack him. Instead, his expression was more of…pity. 

A sort of _it’s-okay-I-forgive-you_ type look.

And he actually reached up to clasp Sid’s finger.

'Sid? What’s the matter?’ Andy put his hands on his shoulders as the older male squeezed his eyes shut, bottom lip quivering as he pulled Woody out as quickly as he could and thrust him into Andy’s hands, 'you found him! Sid, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate-’

He cut off when he saw the state his boyfriend was in and suddenly he felt like the biggest jerk in the world. He carefully placed Woody on the bed and Sid became the focus of his attention; he wrapped himself around his boyfriend's larger frame and took no notice of the dampness that suddenly formed against the crook of his neck, whispering as many thank-you's as he could muster in one sentence.


	8. Telling Mom

Now seemed as good a time as ever. Molly was at soccer practice, all the housework had been done for the day and the dog was curled up asleep after a good run around the garden, so there was nothing left to distract his mother, save for the TV screen. Andy wondered if he should bring Sid inside rather than leave him out in the car.

Maybe not. The last thing he wanted to do was make things awkward if this first introduction was to be an absolute disaster. It was best he bring him in _after_ he was completely certain that his mom wouldn’t freak out at the sight of his six foot, tattoo decorated boyfriend.

‘Hi, love,’ his mother, Emily, greeted as Andy wandered over and perched awkwardly on the arm of the sofa, ‘good day at school?’

‘Yeah, it was okay,' Andy replied, fiddling with the watch on his wrist, 'hey, mom...there's something I want to talk about.'

‘You sound worried,' said Emily almost immediately, pausing the latest re-run of _Desperate Housewives_ so she could look at him properly, 'don't tell me you've wound up in weekend detention again. We've discussed this Andy; you're a smart boy and you shouldn't jeopardise your GPA by falling back on your homework.'

'That was one time and it wasn't my fault. The Walking Dead season finale was on,' Andy huffed, pouting as his mother spluttered with laughter, 'but it's not about school. I've met someone.'

For a moment, Emily looked relieved. 'Oh, Andy, is that all? From the way you were acting, I thought you were going to tell me you have months to live. Who have you met? Do I know her?'

'It's not a girl, mom.'

'Do I know _him_ then?'

‘Kind of...not really,' Andy felt himself flushing, 'he’s actually a little older than me.'

At this, Emily frowned, 'how much older?'

'Four years,' he cringed at the frown that spread across his mom's face, 'I promise he isn't some pervert, mom. He works for the local sanitation business and attends community college part-time.’

'I'm not sure, Andy. I don't know how comfortable I am allowing you to have a twenty-one year old boyfriend,' Emily crossed her arms, 'does he smoke?'

Andy felt himself wilt like a dying plant, 'sometimes...'

'Drink?'

'He used to but he's quit, I promise--'

'What about drugs?'

Andy chewed his lips, 'only once, mom. Ages ago, when he was eighteen. But I swear, he's clean now! And it wasn't anything terrible, just some pot.'

Emily was shaking her head, 'I'm sorry, darling. I would never come between you and someone you love unless I thought you were making a mistake and I _really_ think you're making a mistake with this one. You're too young to be entering a relationship with someone like that, I don't want him influencing you.'

Andy sighed; he knew this would happen, 'I'm not a kid, mom. I can look after myself. Besides, you always used to tell me that everyone deserves a second chance. And after what he's been through, I think Sid deserves to--'

'Sid?' interrupted his mother, her creased brow shooting up in surprise, 'not Sid _Phillips_?'

'Yeah,' Andy continued rather nervously, ‘we met up at his sister's birthday party and started hanging out and...it kind of led from there. His mom walked out with Hannah when he was thirteen and he had to live with his dad alone. His dad was an alcoholic. He...’

Emily sighed, 'I always knew they were a troubled family but...look, I'm still not certain about this Andy, but I'm not ready to turn my back on someone who's been through as much as Sid has. God, the amount of times I had to call the police over to that house because of the noise...'

Andy remembered. He leaned his head against her shoulder, ‘so you’re not mad?’

‘Of course not,’ Emily pressed a kiss to his forehead, ‘though I think it's only courteous to invite Sid over for dinner and catch up with him.’

Andy’s cheeks went pink, ‘he's in the car.'

‘Then what are you waiting for? Bring him in,’ Emily laughed and leaned back against the couch, ‘bring him in so I can say hello and make a huge fuss over him. And I hope he likes meatloaf, because that's what we're having tonight, like it or lump it.’

Andy felt the sides of his mouth twitch upwards slightly and he gave his mother a hug, ‘thanks for not freaking out.’

‘I just want you to be happy, love,’ Emily pressed another kiss between his eyes, ‘and if Sid is the one who makes you happy, then who am I to get in your way? Now go and get your boy and we’ll have supper as soon as I pick up Molly.’

Andy felt his heart do a spin and he promptly bounced off the couch to return to the car, feeling like a colossal weight had been lifted from his shoulders at the knowledge that his mom was, and always would be, on his side. He stepped out into the driveway and opened the car door to pull Sid into a kiss before leading him to the house.

He only wished his dad had been there to see it.


	9. For Andy

It hurts.

He’s not sure if it’s supposed to hurt but it usually does. Sometimes his clients don’t even bother to use lubrication; they’re either too lazy or in too much of a hurry to bother and Sid ends up being stretched to the point where he’s sure the skin will split altogether. It’s not supposed to bleed either but it does. Last time it very nearly killed him. So why the hell was he back at it?

This guy really hates him. He’s used to the odd client finding satisfaction in landing a few punches but this particular man is hell bent on leaving him black and blue; Sid is fairly certain that there’s a possibility that his jaw might be fractured but he’s being ploughed so hard it’s difficult to focus on anything but this stranger who’s five inches inside him.

He tries hard to think of Andy, even as those heavy fists are reigning blows down on every inch of his back, turning the flesh dark. He feels tears mounting in both eyes, threatening to spill but he has to keep quiet; he can only cry out and scream if his client gives him permission, otherwise he won’t get paid. And he needs that money. He needs it for Andy so they can get their house together; the one with two cars and a dog, like they had always wanted. Andy’s job is running him ragged; and being a garbage man just doesn’t bring in enough income to make their dream come true.

So that’s why he comes here, to the same alley every other night and sells his body to whoever will have him. Old men, young men, married men, bachelors. Some are homophobes trapped in the closet, others are just poor lonely souls who want someone to touch them.

He presses his face against the cold, garbage ridden ground of the alleyway; he pictures Andy’s face, his glittering blue eyes and his plush, smiling lips. He can deal with the pain. He has to, for Andy.

He covers his mouth to muffle a scream.


	10. Childhood made of Glass

Sid shouldn’t have liked Andy.

Andy should have been an easy target for his destruction. He was a minion compared to Sid, and his interests lay in activities that Sid didn’t even realise little boys were allowed to be interested in. (Braiding hair for example.)

The only thing they seemed to have in common was their fondness of toys – and even then they were standing on parallel lines. To Andy, toys were his pride and joy; to Sid they were instruments of annihilation. He knew that how he handled his possessions in such a way mortified Andy; the look on the younger boy’s face when he accidentally set off a rocket in his presence and completely demolished his Action Man might have been comical, had Andy not been crying so hard.

Sid soon found that making Andy upset gradually began to cause him more anguish than the screaming and fighting in his household ever could. Every time Andy scraped his leg coming through the fence, every time Scud barked too aggressively, this instant wave of nausea would flood into his gut and he would wipe at the graze with a wet thumb or tell that stupid dog to get lost and growl at someone else.

 _Why_ he did it was another question altogether and in all honesty he really didn’t know; had it been anyone else he wouldn’t have cared but Andy had become this source of responsibility for him, something he needed to protect. Whenever Andy smiled, Sid felt this glittering notion of triumph; whenever Andy cried, the cold tongues of failure crawled into every inch of his skin.

And it was strange because, Andy never seemed to notice any of this himself. He never noticed the way Sid looked at him, as if he was the most important person in the world or the way he would practically turn on his back like a dog just to make sure Andy didn’t christen the floor with his tears. He just wanted to be there and have a good time. And pretend that he didn’t hear the violent crashing that always came from inside the Phillips household.

* * *

‘Hold still! You’re ruining your horn!’

Sid was still unsure of how he had ever allowed himself to sink this low – but Andy was very insistent that unicorns feature in this particular game of pretend, so he bore it with a sour face, arms crossed over his chest as his younger accomplice finished fastening the bobble into the thickest curl of his hair, so it stuck out noticeably.

‘I look like a teletubby,’ he said in the most infuriated voice he could muster, and Andy’s cheeks went pink from laughter.

‘You’re funny. Now come on, try it. I know you’ll love this game once you get into it.’

Sid blew at the bobble begrudgingly, ‘you don’t actually believe those things exist, do you?’

‘Of course not. But who says only girls can use them in their games. Their horns could do really cool things like…like…shoot laser beams!’

Now _that_ was more like it.

‘Laser beams, huh?’ Sid let the thought roll over in his mind, then crouched on the porch steps and started making gun noises as if he were shooting little orbs of light from his imaginary horn already.

Andy was red in the face by the time he finished giggling, and once again that sense of triumph swirled into Sid’s gut at the sweet falsetto of his laughter, though his fingers began to twitch with the urge to dismember or blow something up.

Having Andy around was therapy in itself; it distracted him from his own malevolent passion to see things eliminated at his hand; made him find purpose in treating things with considerate care rather than blind disregard. Andy was keeping him on the borderline between reality and the detrimental idealism that had been fed into his brain.

* * *

He always knew it was probably too good to be true. That this companionship would be one of the best things to occur in his existence and be taken away as quickly as it came.

He lost all motivation to do anything after he discovered Andy was moving. (Not far, mind – only across the town, about two blocks away.) They were in need of a bigger house after Andy’s sister was born, so it was perfectly understandable why they would move to that particular location. If Sid had a bike, he could be there in twenty minutes.

But it was far enough.

You may as well have told him Andy was moving to the African continent.

First came anger; accompanied by a string of cheap firecrackers he found off the internet that sent his sister’s Polly Pocket splintering into a thousand pieces across the lawn.

Then denial; perhaps it wasn’t even properly confirmed yet. Maybe Andy’s mother had only mulled over the situation; there was no evidence that they were _definitely_ moving.

And finally, morbid acceptance; it was inevitable anyway. It was only natural for Sid to lose the one good thing that had ever happened to him. He didn’t deserve something quite as bright and precious as Andy.

* * *

They didn’t see each other for a long time after Andy told him and the distance was like a blow to the gut; their annual trips to Sid’s back yard became an afternoon spent mindlessly pulling the heads off Hannah’s dolls while Andy sat on the porch with Woody, wondering if he was still welcome to stick his head through the fence and see what his neighbour was doing. He decided against it each time, afraid of Sid’s rejection and resorted to simply listening to the explosions and the raucous laughter that followed.

Andy had his party and Sid stayed away as expected, drowning out the sound of laughter and merriment with the harsh baritone of his rockets. He spent the day avoiding his father’s drunken wrath, taking apart Hannah’s stuffed bears and watching his mother cry on the kitchen counter while the joyful ambience from next door burned like flames against each ear.

He was trapped in a place no ten-year-old should ever be restricted to. Secured like an animal in a snare. He just wanted to smash everything up and throw it away. Throw away his life altogether and swap it for a new one. One where he didn’t have a dad — or at least a dad who didn’t drink — a mother who could stand up for herself, and a personality that wasn’t shaped on the violence he kept concealed within himself whenever he was in the presence of his peers.

He had resorted to hiding Hannah under her bed every time the arguments started in the night; and the times when they heard footsteps on the stairs, he would crawl under there with her. No one ever came in but sometimes the footsteps paused at the door and Sid would cover his sister’s mouth as the shadow flooded into the room and the distinct squeak of the door handle echoed off each wall like water dripping in a cave.

But they never came in. They seemed to change their mind and keep on walking every time.

* * *

The night before Andy was supposed to leave, there was a knock at Sid’s bedroom window.

He knew who it was, because it was their secret knock and only he and Andy knew their secret knock.

He realised the world had been so colourless during the time they spent apart from each other. But as he helped Andy into the room and let him take a seat on his bed, all his motivation for life in general just seemed to revive itself.

‘I don’t want you to go…’ he said under his breath, as they curled up on the rank mattress he had for a bed, Scud curled between them and snoring while the summer rain pattered on the rooftops outside.

Blue eyes stared back at him, so vacant and innocent, ‘I know…’

This was the closest they had ever been; tangled together, hot from the sun, foreheads touching and their noses faintly coming into contact with one another as they just stared into the eyes opposite, unsure of what to do, unsure of what to say.

So they said nothing at all. 


	11. The Art of Forgetting

When Andy heard that Hannah Phillips was hosting her 21st birthday party at a local nightclub, he instantly decided he wasn’t going to attend. For one thing, he barely knew Hannah, save for a few faded memories of listening to her yell at her brother from over the fence while Andy was playing in the yard. Other than that, she was a stranger.

But he knew the real reason why he declined the invitation. The inevitable notion that Sid was going to be there and the evening would just turn into one awful drunken mess as they both attempted to avoid each other.

They had only broken up two months before. Andy tried to tell himself that it was for the best; juggling college and his love life together was putting stress on the both of them after all. And his progress had improved a lot since they had gone their separate ways.

But it was so boring without Sid there to distract him from his work, making faces or deliberately watch a porn video in the background with the volume all the way up, until Andy was spluttering with laughter. Sid held him back but at the same time sent him surging forwards. It was almost impossible to function without him.

Tonight, Sid seemed to be making it clear that Andy was the last thing on his mind. He had found himself a dance partner in the form of a tall, athletic man who must have been nearing forty, and hung off his arm for the entire evening like a dependent child until Andy was ready to gag. Sid was like that; he would rather make Andy jealous than have the balls to approach him and Andy couldn’t be bothered with all that bullshit on a night out, a time to let his hair down and forget about crap like this.

He managed to get halfway through the evening before deciding he would rather be at home getting drunk off his mother’s cider than having to watch Sid choke on that asshole’s tongue any longer. If this was Sid’s way of trying to forget him, he seemed to be doing a good job.

Andy tried not to care. He tried really, _really_ hard.


	12. Enemas

Andy still wonders how he ever managed to summon the nerve to tell Sid about his shameful kinks. He knows that love is all about trust but, to him at least, there’s a difference between trust and revealing awkward secrets that don’t necessarily need to be shared.

Clearly the awkwardness doesn’t bother Sid; if it did, Andy probably wouldn’t be perched on the bed they shared with his ass in the air and his boyfriend probing about inside him with the coldest lubrication known to mankind.

‘You ready for this?’ Sid murmurs into his ear, as he takes that weird bulb syringe thing that’s full of water, ‘if you’re having second thoughts—’

‘I’m fine,’ Andy replies quickly, his cheeks abnormally red, ‘I’m just…this is kind of embarrassing…’

‘Just pretend I’m not here. All that matters is that you feel good, okay?’

Andy cranes his head around so he can look up at the other man, ‘I love you.’

‘I know,’ Sid pretends to sigh and carefully sits down on the end of the bed to level the syringe with Andy’s wet hole, ‘you ready, Cowboy?’

Andy’s wordless nod is his reply and carefully, ever so carefully, Sid pushes the syringe into him, carefully squeezing until he hears a loud, intimate moan.  

 


	13. Dog Trouble

'Buster! Buster get back here! How on earth did you get your collar off anyway?’ Andy yelled as he sprinted after the dachshund who for some reason was still able to run at full speed despite being almost eleven years old, 'Buster, no, stop!’

'What the-?’ Sid began, as Scud perked up at the sight of the small, stumpy-legged pooch who waddled up to them curiously; then he held out a cautious hand, only relaxing when the strange dog began to lick his fingers, 'the hell did you come from, little guy? Are you a wanderer?'

'Uh, no. He's with me, actually,’ Andy gasped as he came to a halt at the park bench; he took a moment to catch his breath while observing the stranger, who was waiting patiently as the two dogs gave each other a good sniff, 'managed to slip away from me while I was getting a soda. Sorry.'

'No harm done,' replied Sid, smirking as Buster seemed to make up his mind and started licking at Scud's whiskers thoughtfully, 'I think your dog is slightly in love with mine though. We should probably stage an intervention.'

Andy tried to chuckle but it clung to the back of his throat, '...you're Sid, aren't you? Sid Phillips?'

Sid looked up properly this time, his brow creasing slightly until he realised who he was actually talking to, 'holy shit. You're that kid who likes dolls, aren't you? We went to the same grade school. Andy something?'

'Davis,' replied Andy, feeling himself flush, 'I don't play with dolls anymore, you know.'

'Whatever. So are you just going to stand there or are we going to walk?'

'What?'

Sid smiled again -- genuinely this time, the way you smile at a friend or someone who means an awful lot more, 'we're here, we have a lot to catch up on and they say there's nothing more romantic than walking your dogs together.'

Andy couldn't recall ever hearing such a theory but he found himself clipping Buster back to his leash and walking shoulder to shoulder (well, more shoulder to forearm) with Sid Phillips, talking as if they hadn't been separated a day, let alone almost nine years.

It was all Buster's fault, Andy decided as he watched the moronic little daschund boss Scud around as if he wasn't twice his size. That ridiculous, disobedient mutt was a pure genius.


	14. Waste of Space

He was tired of running. Life had become so slow, so _cumbersome_. He was sick of listening to people say how everything was going to be “alright,” as if they understood his problems, as if they felt his pain. That’s all anyone ever did,  _talk_. He couldn't stand any more talking. He needed out.

His father was the last straw. His father who constantly put him down, always looked at him with such disappointment, as if trying to re-imagine a more intelligent and successful son in his place. Who _did_ love him, deep down, somewhere -- but didn’t know how to show it in any shape or form, especially when intoxicated.

Tonight had been too much.

Usually Sid could put up with it when his Dad was running his jaw but it was different this time; he blamed Sid for everything, _everything_ that had ever happened. His mom leaving, Hannah being taken into foster care, all the drink and drugs, the loose women who ended up in his father’s bed. It was all Sid’s fault.  

He didn’t stop until he reached the bridge overlooking the freeway, with the traffic shooting back and forth at an alarming speed below. He pitied the poor bastard who ended up having a body slam dunked into their windshield but he was sure they would be able to get the stains off the paintwork with a little elbow grease (and perhaps recover from the shock after ten years of therapy.) He took a deep breath, hands shaking and carefully climbed over the railing.

This was it. This was the real thing. He could feel the force of the cars, their wheels turning hazardously. Just one step, a few seconds of pain and then it would all be over. He just needed to take that one step.

‘No, don’t do it!’

Sid’s body jerked, his hands whipping back to clench the railings to stop him from hurtling forwards. Before he had time to wonder _why_ he had held on and not taken the opportunity to finally end his miserable existence, the voice spoke again. ' _Please_ , just take my hand and I’ll help you down!’

Sid attempted to crane his head over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the stranger but he couldn’t quite stretch his neck far enough, ‘fuck off!’

‘I have no idea what you’re going through but this isn’t the answer! I want to help you but I need you to come down first!’

‘I don’t want your fucking help, leave me a—’ Sid managed to turn without losing his footing, trying to keep the tears from spilling down his cheeks. He felt the blood rush into his face when he realised who he was talking to; that his "rescuer" was in fact that weird kid who used to live next door to him, who he later attended high school with. Andy something? He couldn't quite remember.

'Sid?' The man on the other side of the railings stared at him as if he had two heads, 'is that...? Oh God, Sid, _why_?'

'Yeah, it's me. That fucking lowlife who used to set fire to shit and make things explode. Turns out all the assholes at school were right about me; I never amounted to anything...' Sid choked, tears finally falling, 'what do you care? You with your fucking college degree and your...you think I'm gonna stand here and listen to your bullshit about how life is worth living? You have no idea what it's like for me so why don't you piss off back to your fancy house and your Pomeranians and mind your own business?' 

Andy, though visibly hurt, shook his head defiantly, 'I’m not going anywhere, not until you come down.’

'Fat chance.’

'Please, I know it’s hard right now-’

'You don’t know anything!’

'Yes, I _do_ ,’ and for a moment, Sid believed him, 'I...I know exactly how it feels. I tried to kill myself once. My...my dad came back into my life and after not seeing him for years...I just couldn't handle it. He abandoned us when my sister was only a baby and then he thought he could just walk back in like it was no big deal. He and my mom started fighting again and I couldn't take it anymore. I slit my wrists and almost bled to death. I felt like no one understood, like nobody cared about how I felt and what I wanted. But...but my dad, he...'

Andy cut off a moment, breath hitching, 'he saved my life and...Sid, if I had died that day, I would never have got to know my dad the way I do now. He's made his mistakes but now he's actually trying to turn his life around and...and I'm glad I lived to see that.'

Sid wasn't sure why but he found himself leaning closer to safety, though his hands gripped the railings until they rattled, 'why are you stopping me? You barely know me, you--'

'I'm stopping you because I know that death isn’t the answer,’ Andy began to step forward, arms out, 'c'mon now. Come down. Don't be an idiot and throw your life away before you've even lived it.’

His words were like soothing hands stroking every inch of Sid’s body. It was as if he suddenly woke up; he looked down at the traffic and was afraid of it. He wondered what the hell he was doing there. Carefully, he climbed back over the railing, graciously assisted by his new companion and sat himself down on the concrete.

'I-I don't...thank you…’ he murmured, voice shaking in an effort not to begin sobbing, 'I-I don’t know what I was thinking, just…' 

He felt the warmth of a kiss on his forehead, 'shh, it’s alright. Everything will be alright. Do you want me to walk you home?’

‘I don’t think I can face my dad just yet,’ Sid replied, wiping his eyes and trying to soothe his trembling, 'I'm...I'm sorry about... _your_ dad and all. And I'm glad you didn't...y'know...'

'Me too, Sid.'

It was scary to think about someone like Andy Davis trying to take their own life. He was always one of those revoltingly pure nerds who didn't seem to be bothered by anything, much less feeling the urge to take a knife to their skin and kill themselves. 

'God, you’re beautiful,’ Andy suddenly blurted out, staring intently into Sid's dark eyes and completely knocking himself off guard, ’…I’m sorry, I just had to say that. You’re absolutely beautiful.’

The sides of Sid’s mouth twitched upwards slightly, 'I think you need glasses.'

Andy looked like he was ready to protest but instead he came out with, 'wiener dog.'

'You what?'

'I have a wiener dog, not a Pomeranian,' he laughed as Sid wrinkled his nose indignantly, 'and if you're looking for somewhere to sleep tonight, he might just be persuaded to move from the couch.'


	15. Cannibal

He can tell Sid is dissatisfied. After all, Andy is an expert when it comes to reading body language. He tears his focus from his own meal and instead drinks in the movements of the boy at the opposite end of the table; the way the forkful of meat slowly enters Sid’s mouth, remains there a few seconds as he samples the flavour and then exits, the metal scraping against the tips of his two front teeth as he swallows.

Andy knows exactly what’s going on in his lover’s head.

_Not bad. But not that good either._

Sid’s expression is indifferent, almost bored. It’s nothing new, nothing amazingly extravagant. Just simple beef stroganoff – a bed of pasta covered in juicy meat, seasoned and set out on the candlelit table before them. Romantic, yes. But Andy knows full well he hadn’t put his heart and soul into preparing this dish like he usually did. It was just something he pulled together at the last minute, when Sid rang the house and reminded him of their scheduled dinner date that evening that Andy had completely forgotten about.

He’s not disappointed. Not really. Andy isn’t one to allow another person’s opinions to upset him. But he is keen to impress Sid. The two of them have been together for well over a year now and he’s hoping that this is the real thing, that Sid is the one. He’s _certain_ he’s the one and that makes him all the more determined to impress. Seeing Sid poking at his dinner in such an apathetic manner is enough to swallow up all his confidence.

He waits until the other man has set down his fork and pushed his empty plate away, before asking, ‘not good?’

Two brown eyes glance up to meet his own and Andy is almost certain that Sid is blushing, ‘no, no. It was lovely…’ He glances down at his plate, studying the smears of grease and gravy that remain but is sensible to the cerulean eyes studying him from across the table. He’s worried that his lack of enthusiasm has hurt Andy – or worse, made him angry.

But then Andy smiles and he sets his fork down also, his own plate still full. ‘You’re an attractive liar, Mister Phillips.’

Sid sighs and shifts in his seat, ‘it was fine, honestly. Maybe just a little-’

‘-rushed? Too much salt and too little herbs? Slightly oily in the middle?’ Andy cuts off and laughs softly, eyes lowering to the tablecloth, ‘you’re too polite.’

Sid cringes; he feels like an ungrateful, bratty child turning his nose up at a meal specially prepared for him and almost feels sick at his own selfishness, ‘sorry.’

Andy fingers the glass of wine in front of him and puts it to his lips for a brief moment; he allows the strong drink to circle in his mouth, swallows and sets it down again. He pushes back his chair and approaches the man on the opposite end of the table, until he is close enough to lean in and gently connect their lips.

‘No apologies necessary,’ Andy murmurs against his mouth and Sid smiles into the kiss, his arms winding their way around Andy’s neck. He loves this routine - dinner and then sex. Since the food was a bit of a disappointment, hopefully this will make up for it all.

Sid allows himself to be guided to the stairs, pulled into the bedroom and pushed back onto the mattress; he feels the softness of the bedsheets, the cold hands silently peeling off his clothes and he wants to stay in this moment forever, eyes glued shut, allowing himself to succumb to Andy Davis, who strips him until he’s only wearing his socks.

Andy’s like a wild animal in bed; he drags his nails along Sid’s back, sucks on his earlobe, runs his tongue down the slope of his neck as if trying to work out his flavour. Sid is a piece of meat. A piece of meat that Andy so desperately wants. But not in the same way as the others, oh no.

Sid is different. He is the one person in Andy’s life who he loves unconditionally, who he will never lay a finger on, whose flesh he will never allow himself to taste.

He’ll do anything for Sid. He’ll protect him with his life.

_Anyone who tries to harm Sid is literally dead meat._

‘ _Ow_ ,’ Sid gasps unexpectedly as Andy’s teeth sink too hard into his shoulder, ‘Andy…’

Andy immediately withdraws from his bite, gently kissing the marks left behind, ‘I’m so sorry, love. Did I hurt you?’

Sid smirks and places his hands on either side of Andy’s face, so blissfully unaware of where those teeth have been before. ‘No, it’s fine. It’s absolutely fine.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering, yes, their meal did contain a person.


	16. Things we said

The front door slammed loudly downstairs and the pen in Andy's hand very nearly scribbled a wonky line across his 1200 word psychology essay as he jerked at the noise; it was still morning and Sid wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour but from the sound of it he was home now, and raiding the fridge if the clattering from the kitchen was anything to go by. Which could only mean one of two things. He was pissed off, that much was clear — but he was either pissed off about something important or someone had just left their dog shit in the wrong trash can again.

‘You’re home early,’ said Andy, as he walked in on Sid desperately rooting through the cupboards for a drink; Scud Jr. was bouncing around the tall man's feet, excited to see him back so early but Sid didn’t seem to notice he was there, ‘did something happen?’

Sid didn't reply; he finally found his Crystal Head vodka and began drinking straight from the bottle, making Andy cry out in alarm.

'For fuck's sake, Sid!' He seized the bottle with both hands and held on tight, though Sid still had a good grip on it, 'we talked about this! You were doing so well, you can't throw it all away over one lousy morning!'

'You don't know shit,' Sid snarled in response, though his hold on the drink lagged somewhat, 'just for once I'd like to have a swig in peace without having to listen to your whining!'

Andy felt his face go hot; his shoulders went stiff and all of a sudden he was finding it hard to breathe, 'don't be horrible, Sid.'

'Then stop being so _pathetic_. You take the fun out of everything; why can't you just shut up and keep your nose out of my business?!'

This was the last straw for Andy. After everything they had been through together during the last few years, this blatant disrespect was more than he could handle. Things had been going so well but today had brought the water boiling over the pan.

'You know what, Sid? Fine. I'll keep my nose out. I'll pack my things, get the fuck out of here and leave you to it. What do I know, eh? It's not like I have anything better to do with myself than babysit my boozer of a boyfriend. Have it your way,' he thrust the bottle towards the other man, making Sid stagger back a step, 'drink yourself to _death_ for all I care. I'm done with this bullshit.' 

He turned and stormed out of the kitchen without another word, leaving Sid with his drink and the dog sniffing at his heels. He put the rim of the bottle to his lips -- then changed his mind and poured it all out into the sink.

* * *

The afternoon drew in slowly and Andy remained in his room. Sid pottered about, getting Scud Jr. fed, watching TV and having a cigarette out on the porch while he mulled over what he was going to say to make up for what had happened that morning. His mind rolled back to the incident at work; how one of his colleagues made comments about Andy behind his back, how he had sniggered and laughed and called Andy a word. An awful word that made Sid see fire and launch his fist between the bastard's eyes. He would lose his job for this but he didn't care. It was worth it to see that son of a bitch flopping on the floor like a fish with his forehead split open.

But now he had taken his anger out on the wrong person. Five years sober and he had been ready to destroy all his hard work by getting bladdered over one asshole -- and all Andy had done was try to help like always. 

He finished his cigarette and slowly made his way up the stairs to the room they shared, hoping that Andy might have cooled off by now and would listen to what he had to say.

As soon as he opened the bedroom door, he noticed a suitcase lying in the corner, still open and with clothes spilling out of it, as if Andy had been throwing in whatever he could carry without bothering to fold them up. The wardrobe doors were swaying gently, starved of any clothes and the contents of all the drawers were scattered across the floor, save for any of Sid's items. And in the centre of the room, Andy lay sobbing on the king-size bed, his face plunged into a pillow and his shoulders shaking as he wept. 

He flinched as soon as he heard Sid's voice and lifted his head to reveal his flushed, tear-stained face which made Sid's heart break in two. There was no shouting or screaming or threats of separation. Andy just looked at him and somehow his calm indifference was worse than his anger; Sid would much rather Andy had yelled at him, thrown him out, even beaten him to a bloody pulp. But Andy watched him with this harrowing loyalty and it made Sid sick to know that his lover was sacrificing his own thoughts and feelings to make excuses for how he had behaved that morning. How he had pushed him away when Andy was only trying to help; how he had mocked him for his empathy and told him he was pathetic. Words he didn't mean. 

Sid was trouble. He had always been trouble and now he had well and truly lost the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He found himself crawling on top of Andy, kissing his back, his shoulders and the depths of his hair, ‘babe, I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to...I would never think you were...fuck, Andy, I don't know what I can say to make it up to you but I didn't mean a word of it, honest.'

He smoothed back the fair hair to kiss the nape of Andy's neck, feeling him shudder, ‘I doubted the only person who’s never let me down. The only person who time and time again tells me he loves me, despite the fact I’m so damn unlovable. Some douchebag was badmouthing you at work today and I lost it, I couldn't stand someone talking shit about you like that -- but now I've gone and hurt you even worse. I love you, Andy. And if you want to leave, I understand. But that doesn’t mean I’ll accept it. It doesn’t mean I won’t try to prove to you how much I love you to make you stay.’

He continued to kiss the back of Andy's neck, whispering " _I love you, please forgive me_ ," over and over until Andy finally sniffed and turned over to look into his eyes again.

'I could have left a long time ago, Sid,' his voice came out hoarse, raw from crying and he kissed Sid's mouth with chapped lips, 'I _could_ have but I didn't, because I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. The progress you've made has been remarkable and I won't let you fall back because of shit some idiot said about me. I can fight my own corner, Sid -- though I can't say I'm not flattered that you stood up for me. But what you said this morning hurt me. I know I gave as good as I got and on that note, I'm sorry too but _please_ , don't push me away when I'm trying to help. I love you and all I want is to be with you but we have to work _together_ , Sid. Can we do that?'

The water in Sid's brown eyes finally slipped down his cheeks, 'it's been working for us so far. But that's only because you're a stronger person than I'll ever be.'

'Oh shut up,' murmured Andy as he wiped away the other man's tears, 'you're the strongest person I know. And we're going to get through this, I promise. I _promise_.' 


	17. The "L" Word

‘I love you.’

From between Sid’s trembling legs, Andy felt his breath hitch in his throat and for a moment he thought he was choking. It wouldn’t be the first time he had gagged while taking Sid in his mouth but this time it had nothing to do with the actual blowjob.

They had promised never to use the “L” word when they were together. The "L" word implied attachment and attachment meant they were beginning to see their relationship as anything other than a casual hook up every weekend. It wasn't meant to be love. They had listed all the reasons why "love" would never work, why they were only setting themselves up for disappointment by even imagining there could ever be anything serious between them. Andy thought they both understood each other.

Clearly not.

He pulled back, wet lips smacking together and stared right into Sid’s horrified dark eyes, ‘what did you say?’

‘I…’ was all Sid could burble, raking his fingers through layers of sweaty hair, ‘ _shit_ …I’m sorry.’

Andy would have laughed if he wasn’t so concerned. There was a reason why they had agreed to keep their meetings purely physical –- with love came the promise of hurt and they had both experienced enough hurt to last them a lifetime -- ‘I don’t get it. I thought you said—’

‘Forget it,’ Sid sounded angry, embarrassed and heartbroken all at the same time; he scooted away from Andy, grabbed his discarded pants and quickly began to dress, ‘I screwed up. Just pretend I never opened my goddamn—’

Andy scrambled up from the bed and took Sid’s face in his hands before he could say another word; the kiss was rushed and sloppy, but it told Sid everything that Andy had wanted for say for almost a month now and they clung to each other, falling back onto the mattress, tearing at each other’s clothes.

‘Wait.’ Sid mumbled against his lips, pushing back, his face red and flushed, ‘we can’t…we promised—’

‘Fuck what we promised,’ Andy kissed him again, harder, ‘I can’t ever keep that promise. I can’t keep that promise because I love you too.’


	18. The Bodyguard

‘I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch.’

Sid smiled, despite himself, shuddering as he felt another kiss trace carefully along the large welt that crossed from one shoulder blade to the other, ‘I didn’t think homicide was your style. Hell, you turn green just from watching those shitty teen slashers.’

‘I’m serious,’ Andy replied, voice hard as a rock; he stared at raised, red skin on Sid’s back, his teeth gritting at all the marks and dried cuts until he was ready to strangle someone with his bare hands, ‘if he was here, right now, I swear to God—’

‘Shh…’ Sid closed his eyes, pressing his face further into the mattress as he felt Andy’s mouth on his back again, ‘I’ve been putting up with my dad’s bullshit since I was eight years old. This is a slap on the wrist compared to—’

‘Stop. Please.’ Andy pressed his nose against Sid’s bare shoulder, breath hot and rugged as he tried to hold back angry tears, ‘stop acting like you don’t matter, like this shit is _normal_ \--’

He cut off with a sob. From the corner of the bedroom, Scud let out a low, wheezing snore as he curled closer to the small wiener dog that was dozing on his belly. 

‘Hey, come here,’ Sid turned over and held out his arms for Andy to fall into, pressing his nose into dusky blond hair, ‘I can fight my own battles, Cowboy. I’m the one who’s supposed to worry about _you_ , not the other way around.’

Andy took a moment to pull himself together, giving a loud, wet sniff as he nuzzled the crook of Sid’s neck. ‘You’re not going back there,’ he whispered, ‘I’m never letting that asshole touch you again, that’s a _promise_.’

‘Andy—’

‘Shut up,’ Andy pulled back and pressed their mouths together, kissing Sid deeply and desperately. ‘You’re staying here,’ he mumbled between kisses, ‘you and Scud, as of tonight.’

Sid felt his chest go tight. He looked down at his fierce boy, into those furious cerulean eyes that were beginning to spill water and reached down to catch a tear before it could fall, ‘I would be lost without you, you know that?’

Andy kissed him again, though it was only a gentle brush of the lips; he seemed to have exhausted himself, ‘it’s going to be okay, Sid. I promise you, everything is going to be okay.’


End file.
